


cold arms

by clarkesquad



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, cuddling for warmth, ft. super grump muffin clarke griffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkesquad/pseuds/clarkesquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt from @reshopgoufa on tumblr:</p><p>clarke and lexa, still in their 'wallowing in guilt' and 'hating lexa's guts' stage of their relationship, have to cuddle for warmth or die (or at least otherwise risk getting really sickly) :3</p><p>clarke is as angry as she is cold. enjoy~</p>
            </blockquote>





	cold arms

**Author's Note:**

> lets pretend this show acknowledges that winter is a real actual thing that exists in the dc area in february. this would fall somewhere between 3x03 and 3x04 in which they have to travel to the ice nation for Necessary Plot Reasons^TM. go with it.

“Are you cold?”

Lexa stands at the entrance of Clarke’s tent. It’s no larger than the tents they used in the TonDC war camp, much smaller, in fact. Just big enough for the makeshift bed that Lexa had had her attendants fix for Clarke and for pacing room. Which is good. She’s been doing a lot of pacing lately. She’s been restless ever since she came out of hiding and the pacing - well, it was probably something she picked up from Lexa, if she’s being honest. The thought of it makes her jaw clench.

“No.”

But the truth is it’s cold. Well below freezing. She’s wearing two coats, thick boots, and gloves too, but the cold had already settled into her bones hours ago when it had started to snow and they were still miles from where they planned to set up camp. By the time they dismounted their horses, Clarke could only half feel her fingers.

“I can bring you more candles if that would keep you warmer.”

Clarke can’t help but chuckle. That’s almost amusing. She thinks if there was one more candle in this tent with them, it might catch fire. That would be warm, though.

“Don’t bother.” That comes out harsher than she expects. Good. She should be harsh on her right now. She’s the one making her come out here with her  _for her protection_. She’s the one who did what she did at Mount Weather.

And on some level, Clarke has started to forgive her. Having the Commander of the twelve - now thirteen - clans on her knees in front of her, swearing her loyalty was… unexpected. Hard to process, even days later. A little moving, all things between them considered. But, Clarke wasn’t about to admit that anytime soon and she certainly wasn’t going to treat her any different just because she said  _sorry, my bad, pinkie promise it won’t happen again_.

“Your efforts to punish me only cause you to punish yourself, Clarke.” And still, Lexa stands as far from Clarke as she can, never moving from her position at the entrance of the tent.

Respectful little fuck.

Maybe if Lexa would act a little more cold and self-assured like she had before the mountain, Clarke would find it easier to hate her. It’s not hard as it is, but she wouldn’t mind having a few more things to throw in her face.

“Why are you here, Commander?”

Lexa just barely flinches at the title. “You told me once that the ground was starting to get cold. Cold like you’d never felt before.”

“We didn’t have winter on the ark.”

“I expect not. You told me that in the fall. We’re deep into winter now. I know that you’re having trouble adjusting to the cold-”

“I adjust to the cold just fine.” Clarke snaps at her. “I had to do it alone for three months.”

Lexa shifts her weight but still hovers near the edge of the tent. “How did you manage?”  
  
The truth? Alcohol and the first willing one night stand she could find whenever it got too cold to bear alone. But Lexa wouldn’t appreciate that.

 _Actually_.

“Well, I mostly just screwed the better half of Trikru, but that’s just one way to keep warm.”

It takes her a moment to decipher the slang she’s clearly not familiar with, but there’s no doubt in Clarke’s mind that she understands when Lexa’s lips part in surprise.

She snaps her jaw shut, swallows, and blinks half a dozen times. While she gathers herself, she avoids Clarke’s gaze. Lexa nods. “I see.”

Clarke’s shoulder slump. Telling her wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she’d hoped. It makes her feel empty, somehow.

In a single breath, Lexa speaks. “If there’s anything that I can do, Clarke, let me know. My tent is the only one guarded as heavily as yours and my sentries will be instructed to allow you inside if you wish to find me.”

She turns on her heel and lets herself out before Clarke can think of something to say.

She lets out a shaky breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Clarke really hates her.

-

It’s fucking cold.

She lasts maybe another hour, shivering by herself. The ground beneath the canvas of the tent crunches wherever she walks and she can only bury her face in furs for so long before she finds it hard to breathe and has to let her nose turn to ice again.

It’s so fucking cold. And she knows she’s the only one struggling with it. Every other grounder in the camp is accustomed to this kind of weather. She’d like to see  _them_  try to survive winter on the ground after spending seventeen years locked in a room temperature tin can.

The moon hangs high in the sky when she gives in and finally leaves what little comfort her tent provides in favor of finding Lexa’s. She stops in her tracks when the wind hits her face. Clarke closes her eyes, shivers in place, and decides to push forward. It’s even easier to give in now with the still falling snow crunching beneath her boots and sticking to her hair and skin as she walks.

Lexa kept her word. The guards don’t even offer a glance in her direction when she stands in front of Lexa’s tent, her hand gripping the tarp there as she hesitates for half a moment.

She’s come this far.

Clarke whips the flap of the tent around her and steps inside.

Lexa is asleep. She looks peaceful and Clarke resents her for that a little bit, because she’s clearly not as cold as her. She has her boots still on, her shoulder piece off and resting by the bed, and a sleeveless black shirt on that Clarke can see only part of. Resting over her chest and down the length of her like a blanket is the thick coat that she wears so often. Her arms are tucked underneath it and her head rests softly against a pillow.

Her hair is out of its usual braids and it looks nice.

“Clarke?” Her eyes flutter open and she smacks her lips softly, forcing herself awake.

Clarke doesn’t offer her anything past, “I’m cold.” That’s enough for Lexa. She nods and pushes herself up enough to shift to the side and make room for Clarke on the furs.

She hates that she knows what she wants without asking or even questioning. She hates that she knows her at all. But Lexa did leave her for dead once so yeah, Clarke’s gonna use her as a fucking blanket it she wants to. She pushes past the thin hanging fabric that separates the sleep area from the center of the tent and climbs into bed with the person she hates most in the world.

“Take this,” Lexa says, pushing the heavy coat towards Clarke.

“No.” Clarke burrows herself between the sheets and furs, taking a second to close her eyes and revel in the warmth of it all. She fumbles with her gloves to rip them off and then reaches for Lexa’s hands.

They’re warm. More calloused than soft, but warm. Lexa’s mouth hangs open at the sudden tenderness between them and Clarke pretends not to notice.

“Clarke-”

“Don’t talk.” Lexa’s skin on hers is exactly what she needs and after a moment of clinging to her fingers, she sheds both of their coats and pushes them away from them until all she’s wearing is her tank top and all they have to keep warm is each other and the furs covering them both. “Just keep me warm.”

Lexa nods and rolls onto her side to face Clarke. She pulls the blankets over her shoulder and holds her arm up to give Clarke the space she needs to curl in towards her. It’s so cold that she doesn’t even care how intimate this is about to get.

And it is intimate. Painfully so. Clarke lets herself shift closer to her until Lexa’s arms wrap snugly around her. They fit well together. She won’t let herself think about that right now but maybe someday, when she isn’t clinging to her rage, when they aren’t trying to stop a war, and when they inevitably collide again, maybe then she’ll take the time to think about the way they fit like they were meant to hold each other.

But not tonight. Tonight all she can think about is the cold.

She buries her nose in Lexa’s neck and sighs out of relief. Lexa rubs Clarke’s arm; the palm of her hand running warmth up and down the length of her arm in slow, even strokes that nearly lull her to sleep. Most of her is still cold. Freezing, even, but Lexa’s body heat spreads wherever their skin touches and Clarke is desperate for more relief. She tucks one arm between their bodies and slides her other hand around Lexa’s waist and then up the back of her shirt. Clarke’s shaking hand against her back makes Lexa’s heart rate pick up and when she feels it, Clarke pretends her cold skin is the reason.

In the last three months, she’s had more sex than she can remember, but this is still the most intimate embrace she’s felt since Finn. Maybe since even before Finn. Her eyes water for one reason or another, she doesn’t feel like trying to understand it, but it’s there and she can’t fight the emotion that’s trying to break her.

“I hate you,” she mumbles shakily against Lexa’s skin, willing the tears not to fall.

“You should,” Lexa says, and that breaks her too.

-

They don’t talk for the rest of the night, but Clarke thinks maybe she hears a hushed  _reshop, niron_  whispered against her hair. Something else for her to think about some other night. Not tonight.

 

**Author's Note:**

> reshop, niron = goodnight, loved one


End file.
